


The Real Moyans Of The Uncharted Territories

by A_Damned_Scientist



Category: Farscape
Genre: Alternate Universe, Challenge Response, Crack Relationships, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 15:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18479008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Damned_Scientist/pseuds/A_Damned_Scientist
Summary: A Truman Show type experience might just be the thing to cure Aeryn of her TV addiction?





	The Real Moyans Of The Uncharted Territories

**Author's Note:**

> My entry to Sponge’s SC112: One or more Moyan gets celebrity status. 
> 
> Setting and time: Some weird AU, because, as you may soon notice, this combination of characters, relationships and events doesn’t fit precisely into canon. 
> 
> Warnings for some suggestiveness, but no actual smut. 
> 
> Not mine, no money made and no beta this time out.

“Well, it’s not everyday we get guests as famous as yourselves staying with us!” The critter on the check in desk declared with one mouth while smiling broadly with the other. “So I’ve upgraded you to the Penthouse Suite.”   
  
“That’s very generous of you,” John grinned back. “The Penthouse….” He added with emphasis and a pronounced leer.   
  
“Will we be charged extra?” Aeryn demanded with a suspicious frown.   
  
“Absolutely not,” the check in clerk reassured her. “Although we would be delighted if you mention HiMo Suites and Resorts next time you are on screen or posting on the Interlink?”   
  
“Sure thing, bud,” John shrugged as they took the key cards and headed off across the foyer.   
  
“What did he mean, next time we’re on screen?” Aeryn was still frowning suspiciously as the elevator whisked them up to the 28th floor.   
  
“Who knows?” John shrugged. “That cat was weirder than an extra in the hitchhiker’s guide…” the elevator stopped and they stepped out. “Mmm, welcome to the Penthouse!” John announced with a wink affecting a strange voice and a lascivious grin. Aeryn rolled her eyes and stepped towards their room, having no idea what John was repeatedly referring to and suspecting she would regret it if she asked.   
  
“He wasn’t a feline, John, he was an arthropod.” She stated flatly, not rising to his nonsense.   
  
“Sure, babe,” John brushed off her objection as he swiped their door open. As it swooped open it sighed as though it was enjoying opening rather too much, even for a door.   
  
“Hey look, babe, they’ve got a….” John began to proclaim, catching sight of the massive infotainment screen covering the whole of one wall. But his sentence was superfluous, as Aeryn had already located both the remote and the best seat. “Gonna have to stage an intervention for you some day, goggle-eyes!” John teased his TV-addicted wife. “You wanna fellip nectar with that?” She nodded, not taking her eyes from the now-flickering screen for a millimicrot.   
  
When John returned from the mini-kitchenette a macrot later, carrying two steamingly cold bottles, he was greeted with a very curious set of sights and sounds.   
  
“Welcome back to Big Sibling, brought to you this monen live from the Leviathan Moya!” A faceless male announcer declared over a high-speed mash up of a DRD’s eye level tour of a Leviathan’s golden corridors.   
  
“Was that… was that Braca? Talking?” John asked as, in a numb daze, he settled on the couch next to Aeryn and handed her a bottle. Aeryn shrugged. She took the bottle, but she too seemed in a state of shock and she continued staring, slack-jawed at the screen.   
  
“Seems to me like that skinny tralk Aeryn has been making outrageous unreasonable demands of the pretty-but stupid flyboy John again….” a female voice smirked. The scene cut to Aeryn’s room, where she was applying glitter to her cheeks while pouting in a mirror.    
  
“Furlow!?” Aeryn hissed, throttling the neck of her bottle of fellip nectar. If it had been alive, it would have been in deep dren.   
  
 “I wonder if I can get Crichton to promise me he’ll go Commando next time he goes on a supply run?” She smirked at herself in the mirror before blowing herself a kiss.   
  
�Glitter?” Now it was John’s turn to frown. Aeryn ignored him, apart from her furious, angry blushing.   
  
“That’s not… I never…!” Aeryn on the couch protested.   
  
“These shows distort everything, babe, everyone knows…” John on the couch tried to soothe her.   
  
“I don’t know!” Aeryn-the-couch pouted, feeling personally betrayed.   
  
“Meanwhile,” the Braca-like voice returned. “The insufferable…”   
  
“But entertaining,” the Furlow voice interrupted.   
  
“Duracell bunny Sikozu has been caught playing games with Scorpius….”  The scene cut to Sikozu slinking into Scorpius’ quarters while playing with her hair and wearing a scanty outfit and a suggestive grin.   
  
“Don’t you dare look!” Aeryn snarled jealously at her spouse. But it was too late! Sikozu was already freeing her long, red curls, allowing them to cascade over her mostly bare shoulders.   
  
“Oh my!” John breathed as the scene unfolded further. “Is this a family show?”   
  
“That isn’t Rock Paper Scissors!” Aeryn gasped, wide eyed, unable to tear her eyes away from what was playing out on the screen.   
  
“No,” John confirmed. “No, it isn’t…..  that’s…. pattacake!”   
  
“What, like Jeffica Wabbit played?” Aeryn asked in English, mangling the words.   
  
“Well… not 100% like… Eww, That’s Not  Right!” John declared. Fortunately, though, the scene cut away before the viewers could be traumatised by answers to questions they had never previously imagined asking.   
  
“It’s laundry day on Moya, and trouble’s brewing in the amnexus chamber!” Furlow commented over footage of Chiana standing at the edge of the pool, haranguing Jool and Sikozu, who were dressed in their lightest of clothing, standing in the centre of the pool working on handfuls of wet fabric.   
  
“What’s all the fuss about!” Aeryn demanded as she marched in, hatchet faced. “I can hear you as far as Pilot’s den!” Jool and Sikozu exchanged a smug and a knowing smirk.   
  
“These two tralks have been mixing the colours with the whites again!” Chiana accused.   
  
“You stupid fekkiks!” Aeryn snarled, wading into the pool alongside Chiana, who was now standing nose to nose with Jool. “You’ll have ruined my Calvins!”   
  
“Well, wash them yourself next time, Princess!” Sikozu snarled back, now nose to loomas with Aeryn.   
  
“Viewers of a sensitive disposition may choose to look away now,” Braca smirked as Jool towel-whipped Chiana and Aeryn swung a punch at Sikozu, who just managed to dodge out of the way.   
  
“Oh, this was good, I remember this!” John-on-the-couch laughed, matching the ogling smirk of the now-visible  John-in-the-amnexus-chamber-doorway.   
  
Aeryn-the-couch, meanwhile, was po-faced and fuming. Her counterpart on the screen had just slipped heavily and tumbled over backwards under a tackle from Sikozu. They were almost obscured in the footage by Jool and Chiana splashing and wrestling as they also both lost their footing. All four females were by now soaked to the skin in amnexus fluid, causing their already minimalist laundry-day clothing to cling in ways which both Johns clearly found worthy of their full attention.   
  
“Not the hair!” Amnexus-soaked-Aeryn was heard to plead as Sikozu grabbed a handful and began to tug. “My extensions might come out!” However, that didn’t stop her trying to force Sikozu’s face underwater.   
  
Jool and Chiana seemed to be having a far more playful time of it, and after about a macrot of prime time entertainment for the whole family, they stopped wrestling and intervened between Aeryn and Chiana. Chiana grabbed Aeryn, Jool pulled Sikozu off and, still snarling and shouting deleted expletives at each other, they retreated to opposite sides of the pool.   
  
“Aw, don’t stop, I was enjoying that!” Both Johns echoed, earning the one on the couch an arm-deadening, surly-faced punch from his Aeryn.   
  
“So were we, weren’t we viewers?” Braca’s smirking tones returned: “But while all that’s been going on, in the Leviathan’s kitchen, Noranti has been cooking up something special for the housemates dinner.”   
  
“Wing of trill-bat, eye of drannit!” She cackled as she stirred a steaming cauldron, perched atop a furiously flickering flame. She rummaged under her skirt, pulled out some small morsel, rolled it around in her mouth for a few microts and then tossed it into the pot. A bright, sulphurous flash was followed by rolling clouds of steam or smoke pouring over the lip of the cauldron.   
  
“Always order out, that’s my motto!” Furlow cackled as the scene faded to black.   
  
“D’Argo has been in the docking bay pimping his ride!” Braca interjected as the screen cut to shaky footage of D’Argo peeling a sunshade strip from the main front view portal of LoLaa. On the sunshade the names ‘D’Argo’ and ‘Chiana’ could be seen in large type. He screwed up the sunshade, sighed, tossed it aside then lifted a preposterously large pair of fury dice from out of an ‘Acme’ branded brown cardboard box, before hanging them above a small, nodding, Zhaan bobblehead figurine, which appeared to be glued to the middle of the main console.    
  
“I wonder why D’Argo is feeling so sorry for himself?” Furlow’s voice smirked. “Let’s find out...”   
  
The scene dissolve-cut into what looked like Jool’s quarters. Jool was pinned face down to the bed by Chiana, who sat astride the Interion’s buttocks, yanking on her hair, causing the redhead to gasp and scream. Their clothing seemed in a state of some disarray.   
  
“Chiana’s beating up Jool!” John’s white-knight complex kicked in. “We should comm...”   
  
“She’s not beating anyone up,” Aeryn sighed, rolling her eyes at John’s unbelievable naivety.  Chi collapsed onto the bed beside Jool and they began to spoon, caressing more gently now.   
  
“Oh! Umm!” John was flabbergasted. “How come I’m always the last to know?”   
  
“Don’t you watch any of your TV shows?” Aeryn sighed and rolled her eyes. “They argue all the time, ergo they’re having sex, or they want to. It’s a trope.”   
  
“So, does that mean you and Sikozu…?” John was practically drooling at the thought. Aeryn arched an eyebrow.   
  
“Pah. You wish…” she snorted.   
  
“What shall we pretend to argue about today?” Jool could be heard asking. “The fight in the pool was fun!”   
  
“When did you learn all that stuff about tropes?” John asked. Aeryn ignored him.   
  
“Dunno, I’m just amazed they’re all still falling for it,” Chi was heard to giggle.   
  
“Where…. How did they get all this stuff?” John asked, shaking his head, finally recovering enough to ask the obvious question.   
  
“Looks like DRD footage, mostly,” Aeryn bit her bottom lip and screwed up her impressive brow in concentration as she pondered John’s question. “With the odd hidden camera…”   
  
“Meanwhile, That flat-chested Peacekeeper tralk has been up to her usual tricks to try to catch John Crichton’s eye!” The screen showed Aeryn in a strappy tank top, shoving tissues down the front to augment her cleavage. She jiggled, assessing the result, nodding in satisfaction.    
  
She turned and stuck her chest out as John entered the room. His eyes were on stalks, openly staring at her chest as though he were a puppy contemplating a favourite chew-toy. If he’d had had a tail it would have been wagging furiously. “Are they bigger? They seem to be bigger again?” John on screen asked. Aeryn in the hotel room sighed and shook her head.   
  
“I don’t really go around like that!” John declared. Aeryn arched a dismissive eyebrow in real life while on screen she turned big, soulful eyes on John. “John, will you promise to buy me a really big new pulse cannon at the next commerce station?” John on screen drooled and nodded, eyes seemingly attached to her boobs via invisible wires.   
  
“You do realise who we haven’t seen?” John in the hotel room huffed.   
  
“RYGEL!!! I’ll kill him!” Hotel-Aeryn snarled, suddenly animated. Aeryn on screen began doing some not very dangerous looking sort of martial-arts-cum-aerobics, which seemed intended to attract John-on-screen's attentions but to the viewscreen watcher looked more ridiculous than alluring.   
  
“I’ll kill him slowly!” Hotel-Aeryn's hands clenched her bottle in a stranglehold.   
  
“You can’t, honey. Not now he’s got his throne back!” John explained. Hotel-Aeryn continued to mutter angrily while on screen Aeryn used John as a kick-step to reach a non-functional light fitting.   
  
“But how did he get the footage? He hasn’t been on Moya for monens?” John mused.   
  
Just then Furlow’s voice announced: “We’re just going to have a few words from our generous sponsors. Don’t go away or the Scarrans’ll get you, that’s my motto!”    
  
As she spoke, text scrolled across the screen: “Big Sibling is a Dominar-Lobster co-production…”   
  
“PILOT!” Aeryn bellowed.   
  
“The DRDs! They HAVE been using the DRDs!”   
  
“That’s the last time I let Pilot….” Aeryn blushed furiously and stopped mid sentence.   
  
“Let him what?” John turned slowly towards his wife. She stared resolutely dead ahead and blushed some more.   
  
“Let him WHAT?” John repeated. Aeryn continued to ignore him and stare straight ahead. Abruptly, she flicked the infotainment system off.   
  
“Nothing. Let’s go and do something else!” She stood, resolute, her face indicating that she might never, ever watch TV ever again.    
  
“Yeah. There’s nothin’ on anyway. Never is,” John agreed as they headed through to the bedroom. “I hear this resort has a very good shooting range, though.”   
  
“Now you’re talking my language!” Aeryn lit up with breathy excitement.   
  
Although still neither of them noticed the tiny cameras in each corner of the suite that tracked them as they went.   
  
   
  
The end. 


End file.
